


May 1934: Carlsbad, New Mexico

by tsukinobara



Series: Dillinger's Got Nothing on Us [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Historical AU, M/M, Oh my god so much research
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-25
Updated: 2011-03-25
Packaged: 2017-10-17 06:45:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukinobara/pseuds/tsukinobara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lying across Jared's body feels like everything he never knew he wanted and didn't have the words to ask for.  He doesn't know what exactly he wants now, he just knows he wants it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May 1934: Carlsbad, New Mexico

Jared and Jensen drop Chris off at the train station and then haul ass out of Houston, driving hell-bent for leather straight across Texas, stopping only to fill the gas tank, get something to eat, or pee. (And, once, to shoo a no doubt very lost cow off the road.) They take turns driving and cross into New Mexico shortly after sunrise, Jensen sighing audibly with relief at the "Welcome to New Mexico" sign. They find a motel in Carlsbad, get a room (Jared signs the register as Samuel Forester from Corpus Christi), and each collapse on a bed.

Jensen wakes up maybe four hours later to the sun shining full in his face. Evidently neither of them thought to close the curtains when they got in. He yawns, stretches, rolls over, thinks about waking Jared up, changes his mind. He hauls himself out of bed, uses the bathroom, splashes water on his face, and leaves the motel to find a place to eat and maybe buy a decent map of the state.

When he comes back, bearing fried chicken and cornbread and Coca-Cola and two pieces of pie for Jared’s stomach and a fresh roll of gauze and some cotton pads for Jared’s arm, Jared is still asleep, sprawled face-down with his feet hanging off the end of the bed. Jensen puts the food and gauze on the small table by the window, grabs Jared’s feet, and shakes them.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” he says. Jared mumbles something into the mattress. Jensen resists the urge to throw his pillow at Jared’s head. “Wake up or I’m going to eat your lunch,” he says.

That does it.

“What time is it?” Jared asks, sitting up. He runs his hands through his hair, rotates his shoulders to crack his back.

“Time for lunch.” Jensen gestures to the covered plates sitting on the table. “I already ate. We should be ok here a couple days, but I don’t want to stop so close to Texas. There’s a cave, if you want to go exploring. Carlsbad Caverns. Looks like a state park.”

“What’d you bring me?” Jared slides off the bed, walks over to the table, and plops down in a chair. He unwraps the pie first, by virtue of that being the plate closest to him. “You didn’t bring me a fork?”

“I forgot.”

Jensen sits in the other chair and watches Jared eat with his hands. He’s a little worried for Chris, a little more worried for Chad – since Chad is, well, _Chad_ – but he’s not worried for himself, because he has Jared. It’s irrationally reassuring.

“How’s your arm?” he asks, after Jared has polished off the chicken and cornbread and is working on the pie.

“It aches a little,” Jared says around a mouthful of pie. “I think I was sleeping on it weird, though.”

“I bought some gauze and a couple more cotton pads. You want me to look at it?”

Jared swallows his pie and pulls off his shirt. Jensen stands, moves around the table, and unbandages the bullet wound. It’s healing ugly, but it is healing. He counts back to when Jared got shot, calculating how much longer until Jared can expect to make a full recovery. He wants to call Danneel and tell her how it looks and how it’s closing up and ask her if the way it looks is normal, and to thank her again for taking care of them.

He’s not going to. It hasn’t been long enough since they left Shreveport.

Jensen presses a fresh cotton pad to either side of Jared’s arm, wraps the gauze around, and pins it closed.

"Jen," Jared says.

"Yeah?" Jensen looks up from his handiwork, and Jared tugs on his shirt, bringing his face closer, and kisses him.

Part of Jensen is surprised. Part of him isn’t. All of him kisses back.

Jared tastes like pie and Coke and he lifts his hands to cup Jensen’s face. His lips are warm, his cheeks only lightly stubbled – he can get away with not having to shave every morning – the kiss is almost gentle, but not at all tentative, and Jensen forgets everything – where they are, what they left, where they have to go, what they have to do.

When they finally pull apart, Jared licks his lips and grins. “I’ve wanted to do that since Kentucky,” he says. “New Year’s Eve.”

“You did kiss me on New Year’s Eve.”

“I know. I’ve been wanting to do it again.”

Jensen lays his hand across the back of Jared’s neck and obligingly pulls him in for another kiss, this one a little less gentle.

It occurs to Jensen that they could do this all day, or at least he could, but they should probably return the now-dirty dishes to the restaurant where he bought lunch, and they should check over the car in the daylight, and they need to figure out where to go next. But he’s so tired of running, he doesn’t want to just jump up and leave.

Maybe they’ll go see the caverns. Maybe they’ll just sit here – or Jared will sit, Jensen will lean down – and share a few more unhurried kisses.

Yeah, they can do that.

But soon Jensen’s back starts to protest, and he has to break the kiss to stand up straight.

“We should get going,” he says, feeling a little breathless. He suddenly realizes how tight his pants are. Jared slowly licks his lips. Jensen tries not to look at Jared’s tongue. “We have to return the plates, at least.”

“Ok,” Jared says.

Jensen has to adjust himself in the bathroom, and by the time he’s finished Jared has changed his clothes and tried to comb his hair, and they leave to check out the town and see what there is to see.

There isn’t much, but they manage to occupy themselves until dinner, which is steaks and more pie, and then they find a bar and settle in for a few drinks.

Jensen couldn’t explain why – relief at being in a state where no one knows them, worry over Chris and Chad, residual exhaustion from the long drive across Texas, nervousness about their uncertain future, excitement at seeing that future together – but both he and Jared drink more that night than they have in a long time, cheerfully matching each other shot for shot and chasing the liquor with bottles of Mexican beer.

They finally stagger back to the motel, having had the good sense to pick a bar within staggering distance so they don’t have to drive and risk wrecking the car. It takes Jensen four tries to get the door unlocked, Jared laughing at him the entire time, and then they practically fall into the room, trip over each other, and fall on one of the beds.

Jared lands on his back, Jensen on top of him, mouths meeting without plan. They kiss sloppily, hungrily, Jensen’s hands tanging in Jared’s hair, Jared’s hands roaming down Jensen’s back to cup his ass. Jensen’s brain completely disengages and he lets his body take over, lets his leg fall between Jared’s thighs as the two of them push against each other.

Jensen has fooled around with Chris a couple of times – once on a camping trip when they were teenagers, and once after a back-alley boxing match – but this is something new. The camping trip, that was two teenage boys messing around, friends motivated more by curiosity and the thrill of the forbidden than any deep desire. And after the bout, both of them drunk on adrenaline and rotgut moonshine (that having been just about the time Chris discovered he was a better boxer if he had a drink or two first, just enough so that the other man’s fist colliding with his face didn’t hurt so much), well, Jensen can’t explain that either, but he knows it was a one-time thing, he knows it was simply a matter of circumstance.

But lying across Jared’s body, grinding against him, devouring his mouth and sucking on his tongue as if Jared were a well and Jensen a dying man in the desert, feels like everything he never knew he wanted and didn’t have the words to ask for. He doesn’t know what exactly he wants now, he just knows he wants it.

 _Him._ Jensen wants _him_.

He’s painfully hard inside his pants but he doesn’t want to move away from Jared’s mouth, or give Jared any reason to take his hands off Jensen’s body. Then Jared rolls them over so now Jensen is flat on his back and Jared mouths at his jaw and his throat, sliding down the length of Jensen’s body until his hands come to rest on Jensen’s belt. Long fingers scrabble clumsily at the buckle, the fly of Jensen’s pants, his undershorts. His cock practically springs free and he can’t stop himself groaning with relief.

“Jen,” Jared breathes, apparently talking to Jensen’s dick more than Jensen’s face, but before Jensen can answer, Jared ducks his head and swallows Jensen down.

 _Oh holy fucking Christ_ , Jensen thinks, biting his lip to keep from moaning out loud. Jared sucks messily, without rhythm, like he too has stopped thinking and just let his body drive. Jensen stuffs half his fist in his mouth, suddenly worried that he might bite through his lip to keep other motel guests from hearing him.

Watching Jared’s head bobbing up and down on his cock is the hottest damn thing Jensen has ever seen. He must make some kind of noise, even with his fist in his mouth – a groan or a whimper – because Jared looks up at him, eyes hot, face flushed, and he grins at Jensen before going back to work.

And that’s it, Jensen is gone, white light popping behind his eyes as he comes hard down Jared’s throat.

“Come here,” he says breathlessly, after he comes back to himself. He tugs on Jared’s shirt, pulling at the shoulders, encouraging Jared to slide up the bed towards him. “Your face....” Jared’s mouth meets his and Jensen can taste himself on Jared’s lips, and that’s unexpectedly hot too.

They’re lying side-by-side, just about, and Jensen reaches down to fumble with Jared’s pants, get them open, reach inside. Jared’s breath hitches as Jensen’s hand closes around his cock and starts to stroke. Jensen wants to keep kissing him but the noises coming from Jared’s mouth are so hot, Jensen wants to keep hearing them too. Jared’s eyes are half-closed now, his parted lips red and wet, his hair damp around his face. He’s gorgeous. He’s sexy. And he chose to leave Houston with Jensen, to travel with him into whatever future they could find.

“Jen, Jen,” Jared repeats, his voice hoarse. He reaches for Jensen’s face but his hand closes around the back of Jensen’s neck instead as his hips jerk and he comes over Jensen’s fist.

“Shit,” Jensen says, surprised and turned on. “I just.... Christ, Jay.”

“You never call me that,” Jared’s face softens.

“Huh?”

“You never call me ‘Jay’.”

“I just did.” Jensen feels particularly stupid now, as if he shot his brains instead of spunk. He’s exhausted, suddenly, drunk and empty and so, so tired.

And turned on a little, still. And happy. And maybe a little confused.

“You never did before. It’s ok. I like it.” Jared’s words run together, like he’s about to pass out. He smiles sleepily. Jensen reaches out and brushes his hair back.

Maybe this will make sense in the morning. Maybe not. Jensen doesn’t care.

“I think,” Jared murmurs. His eyes close.

“Yeah?”

But he’s asleep, and in less than a minute Jensen is too.

He wakes up sticky and hung over and still dressed, and a little surprised to find Jared’s head resting on his shoulder. Jared’s snoring into his collarbone. Jensen has a headache. He closes his eyes and goes back to sleep.

He wakes up a second time to the feel of lips against his jaw.

“Hey,” Jared murmurs, when Jensen turns his head to blink at him, confused. “I couldn’t let you sleep.”

“Hey,” Jensen answers. He can feel a smile pulling at his lips. “How you feeling?”

“Hung over. Kinda like I need a bath. You?”

“Same.” Jensen yawns. Jared kisses the corner of his mouth. “Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“Last night?”

The words are out before Jensen can decide whether or not he actually wants to have this conversation. Evidently he does.

“What about it?” Jared props his head up with his hand.

“I was drunk. So were you.”

Jared just looks at him, calm and still. Jensen doesn’t know how to proceed.

“I’ve had a crush on you almost since Chad’s New Year’s Eve party,” Jared says softly. “Remember? Alexis got you to dance. We sat outside on the front steps and talked for, like, hours. I didn’t know what I felt, I just knew I wanted to see a lot of you. And then we, um, embarked on a life of crime, and I got my wish.” He huffs a laugh. “It’s a long time,” he continues. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Jensen remembers Danneel saying _You love him, don’t you._

 _Yeah, Danneel, I do._

“Jen?” Jared says, sounding a little nervous.

“Danneel knew,” Jensen says.

“Knew what?”

“How I felt. About you.”

Jared looks confused for a minute, but then his expression clears and he grins, his face brightening like the sun rising across it. He leans in and kisses Jensen on the mouth, his hand on Jensen’s far shoulder, his tongue licking at Jensen’s lips.

“This is weird,” Jensen says, after Jared pulls away.

“A little bit, yeah. But it’s ok.”

“Yeah. It’s ok.” And now it’s Jensen’s turn to start the kiss, and to be honest he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the morning just lying here, touching Jared’s face and shoulders and back, kissing his mouth, maybe tasting the rest of him, sweaty and sticky and hung over as they are.

“Jen,” Jared says eventually.

“Jay?”

“Take your clothes off? I want to, uh, I want to see you. Naked.” He looks almost shy. Jensen wants to laugh at the incongruity. Jared made all the first moves last night, Jared woke him up by licking at his jaw, Jared confessed first, Jared seems more settled about everything. And Jared is nervous about asking Jensen to disrobe.

Jensen sits up, pulls off his shirt and his undershirt and has to lie down to wriggle out of his pants and underwear. And then he remembers to take his shoes off as well. He can’t believe he slept in his shoes and didn’t even realize it. How drunk was he?

And how desperate for Jared?

He stretches out on the bed, wriggles his toes. Jared blinks. Jensen can feel himself blush under the weight of Jared’s hungry stare – not just a flush on his face, but his whole body.

“Your turn,” he says, to get those eyes off him.

Jared struggles out of his own clothes, remembering to kick his shoes off before his pants get caught on them, and lays down next to Jensen. His hand drifts across Jensen’s face, followed by his mouth, and then he’s touching and kissing Jensen all over, fingers and lips roaming down Jensen’s body until Jensen is tense with desire. He still has a headache, his throat is still dry, his mouth still feels like something half died in it, he still feels a little grimy, but Jared’s attentions are so much more important, Jensen can push everything else to the back of his mind.

He can feel himself getting hard watching Jared’s naked shoulders, the back of his head, his ass, muscles twitching as Jared’s mouth finds one of his nipples. Jared teases it with his tongue and Jensen moans, not even bothering to stifle himself this time.

Jared seems torn between wanting to take his time and wanting to hurry, moving restlessly over Jensen’s skin like he’s not sure what to do, what to pay attention to next. Jensen just wants Jared to get on with it, or to stop so he can have a turn at Jared’s body and reciprocate some of what Jared’s doing to him.

And then Jared does stop, and pushes himself back up the mattress to look Jensen in the face. Jensen is vaguely disappointed, for no other reason than he’s so hard, he thought Jared was going to get him off.

“There are other things we can do,” Jared says. “I had a friend at home whose cousin went to New York. I’ve, um, I’ve seen some pictures.”

“Yeah?” Now Jensen’s curious. “What kind of pictures?”

“Pictures. Photographs. You can – I want you to fuck me.”

Jensen’s heart trips over itself.

“Jen?”

“I. Jay. What?”

“I want you to fuck me. In the ass.” Jared grins almost shyly. Jensen wants to kiss him until he stops breathing, and then he wants to slide down the sheets and suck Jared’s cock until he begs for mercy.

He wants to do something before he starts thinking again, because right now, thinking too hard will get him in trouble.

“Ok,” he says, his voice suddenly hoarse. “Tell me what to do.” Jared can do the thinking for both of them. This is heading down a stranger and much less familiar road than last night, and Jensen is waking up enough to half want to stop. And he’s afraid to stop, in case he can’t start again, and loses Jared to indecision and confusion.

“You need to, um, wait a second, we need something slick.”

“Like what?”

“Oil or something. I don’t know. Something to make it easier.”

Jensen thinks. Jared rolls off the bed and starts digging through their suitcases, looking for something appropriate. Jensen’s cock throbs at the sight of Jared’s naked back, his thighs and ass. He reaches down, strokes his cock, feels it leak a little onto his fingers.

“Jay,” he says, and when Jared turns around, Jensen holds up his hand, a little slick and shiny with pre-come. “I’m self-lubricating.” Now it’s his turn to grin. Jared jumps on the bed, making it creak. Jensen winces. The last thing they need is to break the bed. “Ok. Now what?”

“Now I lie on my back” – Jared does so – “and spread my legs, and you, um, you use your fingers and, like, stretch me out.” He wiggles his ass, which looks so absurd that Jensen laughs. Jared grins. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

“Ok, ok.” It shouldn’t be funny – it is in fact pretty serious – but as inviting as Jared’s body is, there’s something ridiculous about watching him try to shake his ass while flat on his back on a messy bed. Then Jared spreads his thighs, giving Jensen access, and it stops being funny.

Jared’s ass is tight and he sucks in a breath when Jensen slides a sticky finger inside and wriggles it around. The one finger is followed by a second, followed by Jensen’s own sharp intake of breath as Jared reaches for his cock and starts to stroke.

“Fuck me,” Jared begs, his voice cracking. “Fuck me. Fuck me.”

Jensen’s pretty sure he can figure it out on his own from here on in. He pulls his hand away, pumps his cock a few times, kneels between Jared’s spread thighs, and pushes his cock tentatively against Jared’s ass.

“Jen...” Jared moans, and that’s all Jensen needs.

He thrusts hard, burying himself in Jared’s body, and _Oh Christ_ , he thinks, _oh dear god in heaven_ , and then just like last night, his brain turns off and his body takes over and even though their position is a little awkward, Jared’s ass is tighter than anything Jensen has ever felt and Jared’s desperate face is hotter than anything Jensen has ever seen and he loses all control, fingers digging into Jared’s hips as he pounds into Jared’s ass.

The bed knocks against the wall, springs creaking, but Jensen can barely hear it over the rushing of his blood in his ears. Jared’s begging words have disintegrated into shapeless moans and Jensen has no idea what he’s doing, no control over his own body, no coherent thought at all. He feels like a teenager having sex for the first time, powerless in the face of his own surprising pleasure as his hips jerk gracelessly and he comes so hard he’s afraid he might stop breathing.

He watches in a daze as Jared jerks himself off, coming with a groan as he shoots over his fingers and into his chest.

“Jay,” Jensen pants, collapsing on top of him, mouth seeking Jared’s. They kiss sloppily, breathlessly. Jensen can smell them now, sweat and spunk and morning breath and he’s exhausted and sated and weirdly, undeniably, happy.

“Jen,” Jared breathes into his mouth. “Jen.”

“Next time,” Jensen says. “You can do that. Do it to me.”

He can feel Jared grinning against his lips. He threads his hands through Jared’s hair, holds his head still so they can kiss more deeply.

From the tangled ball of incoherent thoughts in his head, Jensen can draw out exactly one true thing – as unfamiliar and unexpected as it is to fuck another man – to fuck Jared – it feels _right_. It feels like his body always knew this, and was just waiting for his brain to catch up.

It’s new and strange and nothing Jensen ever expected or thought he might experience. But he and Jared fit together so well, Jensen can’t imagine a life without him.

“Is it still weird?” Jared asks.

“Yeah. But we fit together. It’ll be fine. It’s good.”

“Don’t think about it. Just think about breakfast.”

Jensen laughs. “You’re a bottomless pit. We’ll go broke just keeping you fed.”

“Good thing we still got some bank money left.”

Jensen wonders if maybe they should count it. Later, though. Now he just wants to wash up and get dressed and find something to eat and maybe check out Carlsbad Caverns. He suggests as much.

“If we shower together we’ll never get out of the motel, though,” he adds. Jared makes an exaggeratedly disappointed face, which is spoiled somewhat by his laugh. Jensen rolls off him a little reluctantly, climbs off the bed, and heads into the bathroom. He tries very hard not to think about Jared naked as he runs the shower, quickly washes off, wraps a towel around himself, and shaves his face and combs his now-wet hair.

Jared is still lying on the bed, still naked, when Jensen comes out of the bathroom. He looks like he hasn’t even moved, but at least he hasn’t gone back to sleep.

“Your turn,” Jensen tells him. “Bathroom’s nice and steamed up. Don’t let me distract you.” He gestures to the open bathroom door, because Jared has gotten off the bed and looks like he’s about to step into Jensen’s space and kiss him, and if they get started again they’ll never stop, and now they have their whole lives to kiss and touch and learn all the other things they can do to each other.

It’s almost lunchtime but they find a diner that will still serve them pancakes and eggs, and then they check out the caverns – Jared starts to yodel inside a cave and Jensen has to smack him on the arm to shut him up – and drive around Carlsbad some more, and during dinner they spread their new roadmap of the southwest over the table and discuss where to go next and maybe where they could stop permanently.

“We’ll drive west,” Jared says, “and stop where it looks good. Buy some land, build a house. Adopt some dogs. Maybe learn to farm. You think?”

“Yeah,” Jensen agrees, “I think. No more banks.”

“No more banks. Just you and me.” Jared grins. Jensen does too.

He hopes it will be less and less strange, and more and more normal, the longer the two of them are together. He now knows for sure what he wants – Jared, and a life with him – he just hopes he can figure out how to do it, and how to keep it. He thinks he can.

He can see his future, his and Jared’s, and for the first time in two years, it’s a future he’s eager to reach. It’s not a lucrative future, but it’s a satisfying one, and it has things in it that Jensen now knows that he wants.

A house of his own, some land, dogs. And Jared.


End file.
